


riding through this world

by bitchasslowry



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Bikers, First Kiss, Getting Together, Inspired by Sons of Anarchy, M/M, Pining, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchasslowry/pseuds/bitchasslowry
Summary: Jonathan Toews, the President of the elusive Blackhawks Motorcycle Club, struggles to keep up his lifestyle while also battling through his feelings for new Prospect and former porn star, Patrick Kane.Or the Sons of Anarchy AU that no one asked for.
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. This Life

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show so much that my immediate thought was ‘’my god I have to write a fic about this’. So I did. 
> 
> You know the drill... again. My sanity: please save it by not reading if you know or are one of the people tagged. 
> 
> If that’s not the case, have fun and enjoy!

The thrill of flying over pavement at 100 miles an hour, nothing but you, your bike and your brothers behind you is this exact thing that has kept Jonathan in the Blackhawks for so long. His father was one of the First 9 to create the Blackhawks MC, leaving his legacy to live on within Jonny and the club.

They own a garage in the outskirts of the tiny town of Charming, California where the clientele is loyal and the money is decent. But for years and years the Blackhawks have been running guns to other clubs and organizations alike which just fuels the fire of why the cops are constantly on their asses. If it wasn’t for the local sheriff, Panarin, saving their bacon they’d all be doing hard time.

But for Patrick Sharp, he wasn’t so lucky. Sharpy was arrested for murder and vehicle theft back in the early 2000’s and was sentenced to six years in State. But the Feds caught wind of him doing inside jobs for the Hawks which led to a longer sentence and the very small possibility of him getting out before he dies.

That leads to now, where Jonathan is parking his bike and slapping on a visitor sticker over top of his President patch on his kutte and sitting down at a table across from Sharpy.

“How’s it going Toes?”

“God, it never stops with you does it?”

Patrick smiles and shrugs his shoulders, leaning forward on the table. “You know it doesn’t. But I asked you to come here for… business matters.”

Jonathan’s ears perk up at that. They have a steady thing going with the guns, a large shipment going out to the Blues in the morning, but he’s always open to new ideas and deals. Plus, he owes one to Sharpy after telling him he won’t be able to get him out of prison this time.

“Anything, brother. What do you need?”

“It’s about Abby. She’s been struggling a bit with her business and I thought that maybe you and the boys could help her out a little bit. Get her back on her feet and make a deal as a partner in the company. She’s desperate, Jonny.”

He ponders it for a minute. If he’s being honest, Jonathan has zero idea of what Abby does. When Sharpy was in the club he didn’t talk about her job much and she never brought it up at club functions, so Jon is going into this blind.

“I can see what I can do, Sharpy. We’ll have to vote on it but I can’t see the boys objecting to it.”

Patrick smiles and takes a small piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and slides it over to Jonathan. “Here’s the address. If you need anything, you know where I am.”

The two of them chuckle and Jon gives Sharpy a clap on the shoulder. The obnoxious buzzer that Jonathan knows all too well goes off and a couple guards take Sharpy away in handcuffs. They escort Jon through the hallways and out into the parking lot where two of the Prospects, Kirby and Dom, are waiting up against their own bikes.

“Everything good, Pres?” Kirby asks, stomping a cigarette into the pavement. Jonathan nods and straddles his bike while clipping on his helmet.

“Looks like we’re going on a little adventure, boys.”

-

The clubhouse is fairly quiet while not many customers at the garage, just one older man with his old Chevy that Seabs seems to be looking at. Duncs comes waltzing over, his new V. President patch standing out against the dark leather of his kutte.

“So, how's Sharpy these days?”

“He’s good, but he says that Abby needs some help. I’m gonna head over and see what the situation is. Grab any of the guys who wanna come, we leave in five.”

Duncs nods and heads off to most likely gather up Seabs, Boqer and Shawzy to ride out. Kirby ends up finding Adam a lot sooner than anyone else and he smiles down at him. Kirby is Adam’s Prospect and they have an oddly close relationship. Jonny thinks it’s nice to see the fellowship back in the club after so many years of turmoil and hatred, but that’s a story for another day.

Before he knows it, him and a good half of his charter are riding out down the backroads of Chicago to a warehouse with little to no advertisement on the sides.

“You take us out here to get jumped, Toews?” Duncan asks, killing the engine of his bike and putting down the kickstand. Jon gives him a death glare and takes off his sunglasses. He leads the boys to what looks like a side door to the building and walks in first.

He really didn’t expect what he sees in front of his own eyes.

Abby is sitting in what looks like a directors chair behind a very impressive looking camera crew with their equipment filming what looks like a scene that he got off to about a million times when he was like, seventeen and constantly horny. 

There are three girls, scantily clad in sexy schoolgirl outfits feeling each other up and making out with each other in one of the sloppiest ways known to man. In the corner of the makeshift room is a guy who looks incredibly disinterested palming his crotch through his boxers. But even in the one look that he gets at him, Jon can tell the mystery blond man would rather be anywhere than there in this very moment.

Abby snaps her head towards the door where Jon along with a bunch of the other Hawks are standing and smiles bright. She calls cut and hops off the chair and comes bouncing over to the boys. She’s beaming wide and brings Jonathan in for a hug.

“It’s been _forever_ , Jonny! It’s so nice to see you and the boys again,” she says squeezing Jonathan with vigour before releasing him. “Pat told me that you’d probably be coming by.”

He nods and looks around. “If I’m being honest, Abby, I didn’t think this is what I would be walking into today.”

She laughs a little bit and motions for him to follow her further into the building. “Yeah, neither did my mom but we aren’t going to talk about that. It makes good money usually, but now I have competition and my girls keep leaving. It’s… not ideal.”

Jonathan nods and takes another look around. His cheeks flame up when one of the girls sends him a wink before sashaying away, ass fully out. “Anything we can do to help we’re game for.”

“Why don’t we talk about this in my office?”

“Yeah, good idea. But, uh, where’s your bathroom?”

The instructions were pretty clear, the second door on the left down the hall. But Jonathan knew that he was going to screw _something_ up in his time here. He’s not quiet, boots clunking loudly on the tile floor of the hall as he attempts to look away from the copious amounts of pictures of tits and ass that line the walls.

He finally gets to his destination, but not really. The door is unlocked and has no markings, much like the rest of them, so he goes in thinking he will be greeted with a sink and toilet. But he was very wrong.

Instead, the same man, or rather _boy_ now that he has a better look, that he saw sitting in the corner of the scene he and the rest of the MC walked in on spins around and gives him a quick smile.

“Oh- I’m sorry. I thought this was the bathroom,” Jonathan explains fiddling with the chain that hangs off of his jeans. The boy is shirtless and is doing up the belt to his own pants but Jonny can’t help but stare for a second.

He’s got broad shoulders with freckles all across them and is cut nicely. His abs and v-line is only so distracting until you get to his hair. It had been slicked back when he was on set and there are still remnants of the gel at the roots, but now his blond curls are set free, hanging down ever so slightly onto his face and making him look younger.

“Nah, it’s fine. You’re Jonathan, right?” He asks, grabbing a shirt.

“Call me Jonny.”

The boy nods and sends him a bright smile, perfectly white teeth showing for a second. “Nice to meet you, _Jonny_. I’m Patrick, but most people call me Kaner.”

Jonathan furrows his eyebrows at that.

“Oh, uh, my last name. Kane. I never fucking live that one Christmas special I did down because of it.”

Jonny racks his brain for what he could be talking about. He’s watched a lot of porn in his life. I mean, he’s only 25 and sans girlfriend or boyfriend so he’s gotta get off on something. Now that he says it, Jonny does remember this one horrendously done video about two months ago that he legitimately had to click away from. Total boner killer.

It was like Christmas threw up with too much glitter that most likely got in places it shouldn’t have and featured sugar cookies and cakes involved in body parts. Jonny doesn’t think he will ever look at a snow globe the same ever again. But in the title of the video, it said it featured someone called Kandy Kane which-

“Oh my god that was _you_?”

Patrick groans out and nods his head. “Not my finest hour. I swear I sometimes still find icing sugar in… places. But I guess none of this is what I thought I would be doing with my life.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen. I did this to make money to go to school but I can’t see myself doing that anytime soon. And this is the best thing I’ve got so,” Patrick says, shrugging his shoulders and reaching over for his phone. “They let me go home, so I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, Patrick. See ya.”

And with that Jonny is left alone in the small dressing room, contemplating what just happened. He didn’t need to use the washroom anymore, so he opted to go out and figure out his latest business venture with the ever so delightful Abby Sharp.

-

Everything was set up pretty quickly. Because of their shipment of guns to another one of their trading partners, the LA Kings, they have enough money to get Abby some better sets and hire some more actors for her business. Jonathan Toews and the Blackhawks Motorcycle Club are officially partners in Sharp Productions, a porn company. 

He was told that she would drop off some copies of the paperwork that he signed at the office later on that day to the garage, but Jonny and the rest of the boys are pretty shocked when a motorcycle rolls up and parks itself in front of the line of bikes belonging to the MC.

As soon as the mystery person takes off their helmet Jonny knows who it is.

“Patrick… I wasn’t expecting you to come by today.”

He kills the engine and takes off his sunglasses, unzipping his leather jacket. “Abby asked me if I could do an errand for her after I did some of the book keep today, so here I am.”

“You do the books at SP?”

He nods. “I like numbers, but apparently I also have _twink energy_ , whatever the fuck that means. I’m a man of many trades.”

Jonathan lets out a snort of a laugh and takes the envelope that Patrick had taken out of the inside of his jacket. “Well thank you. I, uh, didn’t know that you ride.”

Patrick smiles and pats the top of his bike. “She’s my baby. Bought her the moment I finally got my licence.”

“You really do have many talents, Patrick.”

Jonny notices the small blush creep up Pat’s neck at his words before he sits back deeper into his seat. Patrick takes a quick look around the garage and back towards the clubhouse. “You guys have quite the set up here. If I’m being honest, I’ve always been a little bit scared to ride past here.”

Just on time, Duncan waltzes past, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. Toews here doesn’t eat fucking normal people bread, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m allergic to gluten you _ass_.”

Jonny shakes his head and notices that Patrick is laughing which makes him chuckle a little bit too. “We really aren’t that scary, trust me. Just don’t get on our bad side. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I mostly sleep in the clubhouse so, yeah.”

The younger man nods and zips up his jacket again. 

“Well, I better get going. I need to feed my sister’s cat unfortunately.”

Patrick is just about to pull out of the yard when Jonathan stops him. “We’re having a little barbeque and get together tomorrow night with the club and friends. You should come. Invite the rest of SP and tell Abby. I’m sure you guys will enjoy it.”

Patrick smiles up at Jonny and gives him a quick nod. “Will do, Jonny. I look forward to it.”

Right after Patrick leaves, Jonny gets a smack on the upper back from Duncs. “He’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

\- 

The get together is in full swing when Patrick rolls up, parking his bike at the end of the row right next to Jonny’s. The low humble of his Harley makes Jonny’s ears perk up and he looks around to see Pat swinging his leg over his bike. He grabs his own beer as well as another full one and makes his way over to Patrick.

“Glad you could join us. It's a twist off,” he says handing Patrick the beer and giving him a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Patrick looks good, and a lot different than what he’s seen him in yesterday. He’s wearing a dark grey button up underneath his leather jacket which he is actively taking off. He’s also wearing black jeans, combat boots and a similar chain to the ones the Blackhawks wear is attached to the belt loops of his pants.

Jonny can’t lie to himself, he looks hot. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think that you were one of us.”

Patrick shrugs and absentmindedly plays with the chain. “I’ve dressed like this since high school, but people used to make fun of me for it.”

“Well now you’re friends with the President of a motorcycle club so they can fuck off.”

“We’re friends?” Patrick asks, smiling a little bit up at Jonny. He’s pretty small in height, a few inches shorter than Jonathan but his boots attempt to make him taller. His hair, which is slightly slicked down on the sides, also gives him an inch or two.

Jonny takes a swig of his beer and starts moving towards the group. “I’d say so.”

The rest of the evening goes swimmingly with lots of drinking, eating and members disappearing, most likely to get laid. But as the evening marches on and the chatter from the courtyard dwindles, Jonny finds himself sitting up on the roof of the clubhouse smoking a cigarette. 

He does this regularly, even when they don’t have people over but usually in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep. He never has company, but this evening is different. The door swings open and makes a clicking sound as it closes. Jonny turns his head while taking one last long drag of the cigarette.

“How did you find me?”

“Brent told me you come up here a lot. I took my chances,” Patrick says plodding over to Jonny and taking a seat next to him. “You’re all really nice here.”

Jonny laughs a bit and tosses his cigarette butt down on the ground and stomps it out with his boot. “You’re probably one of the first people that’s told me that. We kind of look… scary to normal people.”

“Are you saying I’m not normal?” Patrick asks, smirk evident on his face.

“We’re all the outsiders, you know? I’m sorry but not everyone does porn for a living.” Patrick shrugs. “I was sort of born into this life; my dad was one of the First Nine that founded the Blackhawks so it is kind of destiny that I’m the President now. All of the guys are the rejects of society who have all found each other. We created our own little family within the Hawks.”

Patrick nods along and keeps his eyes trained on Jonny. “My dad sort of disowned me when I told him that I wasn’t going to university like he always talked about. My sisters are really all I have left.”

“And now the club,” Jonathan points out, tapping his kutte. “We take care of our own, and now Sharp Productions is an extension onto the Hawks.”

Patrick gives Jonny a sweet smile and nods. “I appreciate that.”

The two of them sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the last few people bustle around the courtyard cleaning up and finishing the last of their drinks before heading home. It’s a while before Jonny stretches and gets up.

“Well, I’m heading in for the night. If you don’t want to drive home I’m sure there’s some open bedrooms down in the clubhouse. Mine is the last one on the left if you need anything.”

“Yeah, thanks. Tonight has probably been the most fun I’ve had in awhile,” Patrick says.

Jonny nods his head and starts moving towards the door that leads back down behind the bar in the clubhouse. He stops for a second before he reaches out for the handle. “Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“How much do you enjoy riding?”

He shrugs and fiddles with his chain. “A lot, why?”

Jonny turns back around, facing away from Pat and smiles to himself. “Oh, no reason. Goodnight.”

He shoves through the door and nearly sprints down the stairs. He contemplates the future of the club as he walks down the hallway, back to his room.

-

The table is looking way more full than it has in a long time. Two days ago, a few weeks after the get together with the SP staff and family friends of the club, both Kirby and Dom were patched in as official members of the Dagger charter of the Blackhawks. 

But Jonathan called for the boys to meet for a second time that week, which is a fairly rare occurrence since the gun trades are going well and their relations with the other charters and clubs have been running smoothly. Nonetheless, the table is full once again.

“I have a proposition to make.” Jonny starts, twisting around in his chair at the head of the table. “Everyone remembers Patrick Kane, right?”

“Yeah, we remember him alright,” Duncs adds, smirking. Jonny leans over a bit and smacks him in the shoulder. 

“Don’t be rude. Anyways, I’ve been thinking. We don’t have any Prospects right now because of Kirby and Dom being patched in, but we still want to expand, right?”

Everyone nods.

“Patrick rides, he’s a decent mechanic from what I’ve heard and he keeps the books at SP. We need someone who actually knows how to finance stuff, no offence Stromer.”

“None taken,” Dylan chuckles out.

Jonny gives them all a smirk. “I propose that we make Patrick the newest Prospect for the Blackhawks. He’s got the skills we need and he isn’t afraid of a little elbow grease when it comes to the stuff we do. Plus, he hates his job. Taking one in the ass constantly wears down a man.”

A chorus of laughter rings out amongst the group and Kirby just nods silently. Everyone sits on it for a moment before Jonny calls a vote. As the answers are given as they work around the table, Jonny starts to smile. It’s unanimous; a yes.

Jonathan picks up the gavel off the table. “I’ll ride out to his apartment today, tell him the good news.” He smacks it down on the wood and the rest of the club disperses out of the room. Jonny takes his time and works his way over to the cabinet in the corner of the room, pulling it open and pushing Sharpy’s kutte to the side. 

He sewed some patches the other day to a brand new kutte, one that’s just a bit smaller than Jonny’s own. The white of the bottom rocker, _Prospect_ written over top of it, stand out against the dark background. 

There’s no dirt, no stains, no _blood_. Not like Jonny’s. 

He rips it off of the hanger and tucks it under his arm, sliding his sunglasses onto his face as he walks through the clubhouse. He rides alone to Patrick’s. 

-

Jonny has been to many shit-hole places in his life, even lived in a few, but Patrick’s small apartment complex takes the cake. 

The dumpsters are filled, overflowing, and the shrubbery has seen better days. He keeps a close eye on his bike while he walks up the door, labelled 1C, and raps his knuckles just beside the brass characters. 

He waits only a few seconds before the door is being swung open, revealing Patrick wearing a pair of grey sweatpants that ride low on his hips and no shirt. 

“I see you dressed up for me,” Jonny says, leaning up against the door frame. 

Patrick shrugs and opens the door a little wider, gesturing for him to come in. “Well if you maybe gave me some warning then maybe I would be a little more decent.”

Jonny snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, putting up a hand. “I need you out here for a second. Get dressed, I can wait.”

Patrick nods slowly and back up further into his apartment. “Give me five.”

When Patrick finally emerges from his apartment Jonny is laying back on his bike, feet kicked up on the end of it and hanging over the side a little. 

Patrick is now wearing a white t-shirt that’s tucked into black jeans with the same boots and chain jeans was wearing the other night. 

“So what’s the big deal that you made me _get ready_ for?”

Jonny kicks himself off of his bike and starts fiddling with the same compartment attached to the back of his bike. “Me and the boys took a vote. It’s about you.”

Patrick’s heart sinks for a second before stuttering out a request to tell him why. Jonny shrugs his shoulders and starts undoing the buckles on the compartment that sits on the back left side of his bike. 

“Two days ago, the new guys got patched in officially as members. That means we need some new Prospects, and it’s my turn to find one.”

He finally gets the buckles open and pulls out the soft and supple leather kutte. The white patches are even brighter out in the sunlight and Patrick takes a look. 

“Holy shit-“

“I’m hoping that would be you.”

Jonny hands the kutte to Patrick who runs his thumbs over the seams and drops his jaw open a little bit. “Are you serious?”

“I called Abby,” he says, rubbing a hand over the left side of his neck. “I still offered your services for doing her accounting, but dicks won’t be in places that you don’t want them to be, including your own, for good.”

He’s beaming now, clutching his new piece of clothing in his hands and nodding furiously. Jonny smiles back and nods to his kutte. 

“Come on, put it on.”

Patrick slips the kutte over top of his t-shirt and tugs at it a little bit to get comfortable. It fits him well; broad shoulders and slim wait looking especially good now encompassed in dark, black leather.

He does a little spin and Jonny claps comically, eliciting possibly the sweetest sound Jonny has ever heard. That sound is better known as Patrick’s honest to god _giggle_ , and Jonny who’s supposed to be this big, tough biker nearly melts right then and there.

“How do I look?”

“Like a ‘Hawk.”


	2. The Rising Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did writing it! Many more fics coming your way soon. Also, this whole thing isn’t beta’d. We die like men.

It’s nearly a year later when Jonny walks into SP battered and bruised. The studio is empty at such a time of night; nearly two in the morning. 

He’s hoping it’s empty so that he can raid the First Aid kit without having to go back to the clubhouse and face the rest of the boys, at least until later tomorrow morning. 

But no dice, because the light to the small office where all the paperwork is kept is still on and is quite frankly hurting Jonny’s eyes. There’s only two people that could possibly be in there, and since he didn’t see Abby’s car in the parking lot when he barely managed to flip down his kick stand without passing out back in the parking lot, it’s an easy deduction to figure out Patrick must still be working on the books.

Jonathan decides that he’d attempt to say his peace without scaring the shit out of Patrick and then proceed to clean himself up. But of course it can’t be that easy. 

He knocks on the door frame quietly which still makes Patrick jump and spin around, hand on his gun. When he realizes who it is, he relaxes a little bit but suddenly notices the state of Jonny’s face. 

“What the fuck happened to you,” he says worry laced in his voice as he pushes himself up off the office chair he was in. 

Jonny shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head away from Patrick, but the smaller man just reaches up to turn it back towards him. Jonny’s got a black eye, a busted lip and a few scratches and bruises along his jaw and cheek bones. 

“Blues. Who else?”

Patrick, honest to God, growls a little at the sound of the name of the rival club before going over to shut down his computer. 

“What are you doing?”

“Gonna take care of you, dumbass,” Patrick says, taking Jonny’s hands and pulling him over to one of the dressing rooms, specifically the one that Patrick used to use. 

It feels weird, being pulling into a room by an ex-porn actor in a porn studio but sometime you jsut have to roll with the punches.

Jonny slides himself up onto the little counter in the room and Patrick searches around for some supplies, finally coming up with a mini First Aid kit. 

“This is probably gonna sting, like, a lot.” 

Patrick takes out some alcohol wipes and goes in to dab one on Jonny’s lip. He flicked a bit before settling down and getting used to the sting. 

“Where did you learn all this shit?”

Patrick laughs. “It’s not that hard to figure out, Pres. But my sister Jackie is a nurse in Buffalo so hearing her rant about her days has sort of paid off.”

“What do you tell them when they ask about your job?”

“I tell them I’m an accountant. Nobody asks you questions when you say you’re an accountant.”

They both laugh and Patrick continues to work on Jonny’s face. He close up, trying to make sure he doesn’t hurt him which allows Jonny’s to freely stare at Patrick for a little while. 

He’s changed his appearance since Jonny first met him. When he was working for Abby it was encouraged for him to sort of keep his ‘twink’ persona and look by not really building muscle, having his hair long and fluffy and always keeping a clean shaven face. 

Now though, Patrick is starting to look like a man even at the age of twenty. He still has his longer hair but he shaved the sides a little bit and now sports two baby racing stripes cut into his hair. It’s like a stylish mullet and it honestly really does it for Jonny.

Patrick also got a few tattoos and now sports a five o’clock shadow nearly all the time which all make him look incredibly good constantly. 

With all of that so close to him Jonny has to will himself not to creepily stare for too long and also scold his dick to _not_ get interested. 

He succeeds and soon enough Patrick is pulling away and throwing the used materials into the small trash can on the floor. “You’re good now. Just be careful.”

Jonny nods and looks down at himself, more specifically his shirt that’s covered in his own blood. 

“I, uh, have an extra change of clothes here if you want to borrow the shirt,” Patrick pipes up sensing Jonny’s thought process. 

He just nods and Patrick scampers off to get the shirt. In the mean time, Jonny untucks his and pulls it off over his head. 

He hears Patrick walk back in but abruptly stop in the doorway. Jonny spins around to see him staring at him with those big blue eyes that Jonny hasn’t been able to get out of his mind for the last six months. 

It’s no secret to himself or to Seabs that Jonny has been harbouring a bit of a crush on the Prospect ever since he single handedly saved his life after a quarrel with one of the many rival clubs around the area. He’s pretty sure he decided that he wants to marry Patrick the moment that he rode in on his bike, whipping his body around and shooting down the guy who was about a second away from taking a knife to Jonny’s throat. But those are the minor details. 

Patrick is looking up at him in awe, eyes raking over Jonny’s shoulders and down his biceps. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Jonathan takes a moment to figure out what he’s talking about until it clicks in. His tattoo. 

“Not many people have.”

All the Blackhawks have to get a tattoo that represents the club as soon as they get patched in. There’s a few designs that they choose from, and most guys opt for either the top rocker on their back or a hawk drawing on an arm. 

Jonny decided to do something different. 

It starts on his back and moves across his shoulders and down to his triceps, nearly touching his elbows. The center of his upper back is where the hawks face lies, beak open and talons pointed out right underneath. It’s wings are stretched out all the way along Jonny’s shoulders, not leaving much skin untouched by the intricate ink job. 

“Can I-“ Patrick says, reaching his hand out carefully to run his fingers down Jonny’s arm. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Jonathan turns around, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his back muscles a bit. He feels Patrick’s cold hand trace some of the feathers on the wings of the hawk, a contrast to his warm breath on Jonny’s left shoulder blade. 

He can barely breath himself with Patrick touching him; touching a place that no one has even gone near in a long time. 

“Why don’t you let people see it?”

He shrugs and feels Patrick’s fingernails drag on his skin with the movement. “I never thought it was a big thing.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Jonny blushes down his neck, no doubt that Patrick sees it, especially because he twists himself around to be in front of the taller man, dragging his hand along his shoulder and skidding them down his arm.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you. Properly,” Patrick mumbles out, looking up at Jonny through his lashes. The expression on his face is soft and sincere.

Jonny shakes his head a little. “You don’t have to thank me, Patrick.”

“You sort of saved me. Sure my job before wasn’t _horrible_ , but I was feeling pretty lost. So, thank you for taking me under your wing,” Patrick smirked and Jonny immediately rolled his eyes, shoving the smaller boy away from him.

This spurred Patrick on to take a push back at Jonny, leading to the two of them doing a sort of weird wrestling thing, both of them laughing uncontrollably until Patrick gets knocked against a wall.

Jonny is standing tall over him, hands on either side of his head resting on the wall and his hips pressed into Patrick’s. They both stop laughing.

Pat can feel the heat off of Jonathan’s unclothed torso bleed through his own thin t-shirt which only makes him grow hotter than he was before. From this close he can see a few droplets of rubbing alcohol that dripped down onto Jonny’s collarbone accompanied by the smallest hints of dried blood. It really shouldn’t be hot, but Patrick figured out a while ago that his idea of attractive is pretty fucked up.

He reaches up and swipes his thumb across Jonny’s lip, making him twitch a bit due to the small cut there. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that Pat?”

“I’ve been told that by countless producers, Jonny.”

His slight smile falters until Patrick continues.

“But none of them meant it like you do.”

Jonny takes that as an invitation to lean down and press his lips to Patrick’s careful enough to not split his lip open any further, but hard enoigh to make Patrick let out a small moan. His hips attach to Pat’s, moving in a slow grind that gets them both more worked up than they thought they’d get. 

The pull away for a moment to catch their breaths and to make sure Jonny hasn’t fucked up any of Pat’s medical work. 

“Jesus, you really know how to make a boy feel special, Pres.”

Jonny chuckles and shrugs. “I know a couple other ways too.”

-

“Listen up,” Jonny says, spinning around in his chair a couple times, you know, like he’s twelve years old. “Patrick should be a full member. He’s proved himself worthy of the title, especially when it comes to the Blues and our one trip down to Cali with our visit with the Kings.”

“I second that. The kid has talent and drive,” Duncs says, tapping a pen on the table in front of them. 

Everyone agrees, much like how they patched Kirby and Dom in. Seabs wheels himself backwards and pushes open the door. 

“Peeks! Get in here!” He yells. From Jonny’s seat he can see Pat working away at cleaning behind the bar, jumping a little at the sound of Brent’s voice. He scrambles over and slips into the meeting room. 

“Yeah?”

Jonny gestures towards the empty chair at the end of the table and Patrick takes a tentative seat. “Everything okay?”

“You might want to take the kutte off, Kaner.”

His face falls and Patrick looks terrified. Jonny knows what he’s thinking. _He’s getting kicked out of the club._

Patrick shucks off the kutte, white Prospect rocker on full display to the group. 

“You got a knife?” Jonny asks, stoic as ever. They don’t call him Captain Serious for nothing after all. 

Pat gets the instructions to cut off the rocker and he looks a couple minutes away from crying if Jonny’s being honest. But the older man gets up and walks over to watch Patrick a bit closer. 

“You’re gonna need some space for these,” he says, pulling out a stack of patches out of his pocket and flopping them down on top of where Pat is working on taking out the stitches in his kutte. 

His expression immediately changes with a wide grin breaking out on his face, perfectly white teeth showing off the little gap in his front teeth that Jonny had just recently noticed.

“You _fucker_! You got me all worked up just to patch me in. Assholes, all of you.”

Kirby snickers and Adam elbows him in the side, just causing him to laugh even harder. “Wasn’t that funny when we did that to you, eh Kirbs?”

Kirby flips off the Swede before turning his attention back to Kaner and Jonny.

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Duncs says standing up. “We have to celebrate.”

-

It’s a long afternoon of drinking and socializing before Patrick finds himself up on the roof of the clubhouse watching the sun set, now adorning his new patches. 

“You’ve stolen my spot,” Jonny says from behind him. He steps over the rails on the roof to slide himself down beside the younger man. 

“It’s nice up here. I see why you like it.” They sit in silence for a few beats before Jonny picks up the conversation again. “So about the other night- I liked that.”

“Just so we’re on the same page here-“

“When you kissed me,” Patrick says and Jonny nods once, his cheeks heating up slightly. “Oh come on, don’t get all shy on me now.”

They fall back into that same silence, this time a little bit more awkward than before. “I have to be the first ever gay President of a MC.”

Patrick laughs at that and shakes his head to the positive. “I guess so. Nothing wrong with that though.”

Jonny’s hand drops down to his side and his pinky slides over top of Patrick’s, looping the two of them together. 

“Would it be bad for me to do it again?”

Patrick smiles. “As long as our patches stay you can do it as much as you want, Jon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @bitchasslowry
> 
> and in case i don’t see you; good afternoon, good evening and goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @bitchasslowry
> 
> and in case i don’t see you; good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!


End file.
